


Tell Me a Story...

by seamusdeanforever_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-28 07:24:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5082925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seamusdeanforever_archivist/pseuds/seamusdeanforever_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>By Kaalee and thenotoriousso4</p><p>"He closed his eyes and parted his lips and leaned up slowly until his lips brushed Deanﾕs upper lip. His heart beat wildly and his stomach nearly hurt from the butterflies careening around, but he couldn't stop."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell Me a Story...

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Cora: this story was originally archived at [Seamus/Dean Forever](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Seamus/Dean_Forever), which I opened in 2002, and which was closed in 2005 when the server that hosted it was closed. To re-open the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2015. An announcement was posted to OTW media channels, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Seamus/Dean Forever archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/seamusdeanforever/profile).
> 
> ***
> 
> DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. 
> 
> Author notes: Cowritten by Kaalee and thenotoriousso4.   
> Loosely based in the_leaky-verse. Unofficial backstory to Dean and Seamus' relationship/friendship. Set in the summer after sixth year. Written in a RP format, so beware of roving PoV.

Seamus was sitting on Dean's bed, gesticulating wildly - as usual. "Seriously, mate, it's the God-honest truth. You can even ask me Da. So, this guy was fishing in the river and his line got stuck on something _heavy_. Now he was a fisherman and had been for years and years and years. Actually, it even ran in his family. He was like the seventeenth O'Malley to spend his free time fishing, so it was really in his blood, y'know? Have you ever gone fishing?"

Dean groaned loudly, throwing a wad of paper at the boy on his bed. Seamus had been telling stories to him all summer. Well, really, he had been telling stories as long as Dean could remember, but this summer seemed particularly full of them. They had spent most of the summer at Seamus' house, but had decided to spend the last two weeks at Dean's. Well, they had barely gotten through the door to his room when Seamus had started this particular story... and it looked like he was never going to finish it.

"Sure mate, I've been fishing. Now... go on. Finish it," he said with a sigh.

"Yeah. Right. Sorry. So the guy is tugging on his line and it reminds him of this time that he'd been fishing with his granddad and they got their line stuck and they had to wade into the water and it ended up being stuck on a little box that had all this _gold_ in it and all he could think about was finding gold at the end of his line," Seamus paused momentarily and opened his mouth wide, " _Dean_! Do you remember the Quidditch World Cup? And all that gold that the leprechauns threw out? It reminds me of _that_!"

"Yes, mate..." Dean smiled indulgently at his friend, but was getting more and more impatient, "I remember. Now...the story?"

"But, don't you remember? You were so sure that it was real gold and I kept telling you it was fake and you still wouldn't believe me? _This_ was how I knew!" Seamus was indignant. This information was _completely_ relevant to the story. "The guy - oh, I forgot to tell you his name was Patrick, sorry - had found gold that time with his grandfather and they were so sure that they were going to be rich but it turned out to be leprechaun's gold and it disappeared! So, when Patrick got his line all caught he was excited, but really nervous, because he'd been so disappointed once before. He had to wade through the water through all this muck and mess - it was a really dirty river, actually, lots of people had thrown trash in it - and he reached down to untangle his line and you won't _believe_ what he found... " Seamus paused dramatically, taking a deep breath. Then he looked over at Dean's desk and saw a letter from Neville. "Ooh, Dean, you didn't tell me that Neville wrote you..."

"Seamus! Can't you just...ARG!" Dean roared, leaping out of the chair and pouncing on him. He pinned his arms down to the bed with a laugh, "Ha, gotcha! Now, what're ya gonna do about it?"

Seamus winked up at Dean, "Oh, me friend, you underestimate the scrappiness needed to grow up in Ireland and still keep all yer limbs." He jerked his hand so Dean's elbow bent and quickly twisted his hand out of Dean's grasp. Rolling down onto the floor, Seamus stood up and grabbed onto Dean's ankles, pulling until Dean had only his torso on the bed, "Wanna change your tune now, Thomas?"

Dean grinned madly and wrapped his legs around Seamus' waist. Sitting up, he grabbed the other boy's shoulders before spinning them around and pinning him back to the bed, "Nope...tune's still the same, thank you."

"I. Don't. Think. So," Seamus struggled against Dean's hands, panting between each word. "Dammit, Thomas, how did you get muscles from _drawing_? Bloody artist," Seamus growled in frustration. He thrashed about on the bed, mussing the spread and making his hair stand up wildly, but Dean's hands held fast.

"Ha...teach you to mess around with me. I'm not nearly as wimpy as everyone thinks," Dean gloated, holding Seamus firmly in place, "Can't escape, can you?"

"You think you're so... _strong_ ," Seamus slid his foot behind Dean's knee and tugged it forward as he spoke until Dean's knee buckled and Dean collapsed on top of him.

Suddenly they were inches apart. Seamus could see the thin skin under Dean's eyes; he felt warm puffs of Dean-scented air over his lips. A lock of hair flopped in front of his eye and Seamus pushed it away with one hand but he didn't look away. "We, uh... I," Seamus swallowed.

Dean gulped, "Ummm..." All of a sudden they were a little too close, and it was a little too hot in his room. There was also a little too much pressure from Seamus' leg on his, er, _private places_. He stared down at Seamus' face in confusion.

 _Move, Thomas...I'm sure he doesn't want you in his personal space,_ he thought, _When had things become so uncomfortable and...ummm...hot?_

Dean swallowed hard, some parts of his body were getting the completely wrong idea about this situation, but for some reason he couldn't move at all.

Why wasn't Dean moving? Why wasn't he moving? Seamus thought it had been more than enough time for Dean to get off. Then Seamus realized the words he'd just thought and felt a warm tingle spread over his body. He licked his lips and continued to stare. "Dean?" he said quietly.

"Er..." Dean's body still refused to move from its position, wrapped around his best friend, "Yeah?" he finished dumbly, letting out a ragged breath. He blushed at the sound of his voice... and the fact that he was laying on top of his best friend, in his bed, with the beginning of a hard-on. Not to mention the fact that he was currently contemplating the aforementioned best friend's lips and how soft they looked... and how soft they would probably feel. They were nearly touching his already, and all he would have to do is lean down and...

No, this was weird. He was not going to think about this anymore...and he was not going to look at his mate like that. And he was going to get off him right now.

But he didn't.

But he didn't.

"Dean, we... I think we, uh... that we ought to..." Then Seamus didn't care anymore. He closed his eyes and parted his lips and leaned up slowly until his lips brushed Dean's upper lip. His heart beat wildly and his stomach nearly hurt from the butterflies careening around, but he couldn't stop. He knew Dean was probably about to punch him, but his brain kept telling him, _Yes!_ and _More!_ and Seamus thought that the slide of Dean's lip under his was about the most perfect thing he'd ever felt in seventeen years of being alive.

_Oh. My. God._

Dean froze as Seamus' lips brushed against his. He had never felt anything so soft and so... wonderful in his whole life. Not even kissing Ginny Weasley had been this good. But was this allowed? Seamus was... a boy. He wasn't supposed to like that; but then Seamus' lips were sliding against his and he stopped thinking and stopped... caring. He pressed into it, his hands sliding up Seamus' arms.

Seamus kept his eyes tightly closed and breathed out slowly, the breath tickling him as it ricocheted back from Dean's lips. He didn't think he'd want to stop if Dean suddenly pushed him away.

Of their own accord, because Dean no longer had control of his body, his arms slipped around Seamus' neck and pulled him closer. He was so very very confused, but at the same time he couldn't make himself stop. It felt too good... too perfect to stop. But best mates weren't supposed to do this. This was not in the best mate manual; maybe there was an extra chapter that had gotten torn out of his. Something like "Chapter 46: The art of kissing other blokes". Maybe best mates did this all the time, and it was okay. Oh please, let it be okay... because there was no way he was stopping now.

 _Was Dean pulling him closer? Closer?_ Seamus thought he was but he was so off-center that he didn't know if it was his own misplaced sense of balance that made him feel this way or whether it was the fact that the earth was moving, shifting, _changing..._

He wanted - _needed_ \- to know what Dean tasted like and as Dean's fingers brushed the back of his neck, Seamus slid his tongue just under the ledge of Dean's teeth and gently slipped over Dean's tongue.

Dean shivered... then he shivered again and again. Seamus' tongue... in his mouth. _Wow_. Who knew he tasted so good? He lay there for a moment, not moving, just his mouth hanging open, being explored. Then, finally, he came to his senses and explored back, his tongue tangling with Seamus'. Oh, good good good. Why had they not done this before? He was going to have to ask Seamus later... but right now he wanted to focus on this tongue, this mouth, this body underneath his.

Seamus slid his hand over Dean's back, finding a patch of warm skin where he'd been wrestling just before and marveling at how quickly things changed.

The skin was so _soft_ and he just couldn't take his hand away. When Dean's tongue slid into his mouth, he opened his eyes and watched Dean's eyelashes flutter as he kissed him.

Dean was _kissing_ him.

It was almost too surreal to imagine.

Kissing Seamus was wonderful; running out of air was, well, not. Dean didn't want to ever stop doing this, but air was sort of vital to keep on doing this, so finally he broke the kiss. His eyes fluttered open to stare into the blue ones that he knew so well. He took in a shaky breath, but didn't speak, as he was sure that any words he said would make this moment go crashing to the ground.

Seamus blinked and licked his lips. "Are we really _doing_ this?" he asked, breathlessly.

Dean blinked back nervously, "Ummm...yeah. Well, we were," he clarified. His eyes searched Seamus', afraid that maybe he had been wrong, maybe this wasn't okay. Maybe Seamus thought he was a freak now. Oh...that would not be good, as he still had a little problem, _down there_ , that Seamus was sure to notice sooner or later.

"Well, can we _keep_ doing it?" Seamus asked, praying he didn't sound pathetic. He'd never thought about touching Dean, _kissing_ Dean, but now that they were doing it - if they even were - he couldn't imagine why they hadn't done it before.

Dean was dancing on the inside, "Yes, yeah, um, sure...yes," _God yes, please_. he thought, but didn't lower his face back down. He was so afraid that if he moved at all his, er, problem, would brush against Seamus again and he would feel it and not want to kiss him anymore, and he so wanted to kiss him again and why was he stalling?

Sometimes the simplest words were the most beautiful and Seamus decided that Dean saying yes over and over was beauty in it's most simple form. He pulled Dean's face down and ran his tongue slowly over Dean's lips, watching Dean's eyes.

Sometimes the simplest words were the most beautiful and Seamus decided that Dean saying yes over and over was beauty in it's most simple form. He pulled Dean's face down and ran his tongue slowly over Dean's lips, watching Dean's eyes.

Dean's eyes widened in surprise. _Oh...wow_ , he thought. Everything about Seamus was wow right now, and he shivered again... why couldn't he stop shivering? He fisted his hands in Seamus' hair and finally, _finally_ , lowered his mouth onto the other boy's, sliding his tongue against Seamus'. _Wow. Wow. Wow._

Seamus gasped as Dean's hand twisted in his hair and their lips slid together. He suddenly wanted to look down on deep brown eyes and rolled the two of them over so he was on top - pressed against Dean in so many places. Their lips slid hotly together and Seamus slid his fingers along the hem of Dean's shirt.

Dean wasn't used to being the one on the bottom, but frankly, he liked it. Seamus was pressing down on all the right spots, and it was so good that he squirmed to get more of it. Before he realized what was going on, he had wound his legs around Seamus' waist again, and was arching up, wanting to feel as much of everything as possible.

As Dean's long legs slid around his waist, Seamus couldn't separate everything he was feeling - _could it even be labelled?_ \- and then Dean's legs tightened and they were pressed together so closely and _oh_ \- He could feel that Dean - _oh, that he was, too_

And he hoped desperately that Dean wanted this as much as he did.

Dean kissed and sucked his way down a slightly rough jaw, pausing at different places to nip at creamy skin. He tightened his legs around Seamus' waist and...suddenly there was something hot and hard pressed against him and... _oh, that's nice_. He shuddered, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of Seamus' shoulder.

Seamus strangled a moan in the back of his throat when Dean bit his shoulder. He rolled his hips slightly, pushing down and pulling one of Dean's legs more tightly around his waist. When Dean didn't pull away, he slid his hand along Dean's outer thigh, squeezing the taut muscles with his fingers.

"Oh God..." Dean whispered, his head falling back onto the pillow. This was too much... too much sensation... too much _Seamus_ all at once and it was overwhelming him. Then Seamus was rocking them together and he couldn't hold back his moan. He brought his fist up to his mouth, biting down on it when -

"Dean, honey? Are you okay in there?" The doorknob rattled as both boys looked at each other in panic.

Seamus' eyes were wide as he ran his hand through his bed-tousled hair, "Just tell her we were _wrestling_ or something, yeah?" He rolled - reluctantly - off Dean and onto the floor, "We'll just tell her that a small, scrappy Irishman is no match for a tall artist."

Dean threw Seamus a dirty look before regaining his senses enough to answer his mother, "Yes, mum. I'm fine," Dean called out as calmly as he could.

He tried to think up the most disgusting thoughts imaginable to get rid of certain _evidence_ before he opened the door. _Filch. Filch...naked. Filch sucking off...Hagrid. There we go._ He climbed off the bed and went to open the door. Talking hurriedly to his mother, he waved her off and shut the door, leaning against it with a sigh. "She says it's time for supper."

Seamus was pretty sure that _time for supper_ in Dean Thomas' house required an appearance, unlike in his own. "So, uh, we gotta go then, right?"

"Right," Dean said softly, eyeing Seamus up and down. He was flushed, his clothes rumpled, and his hair was sticking up in all different directions. Dean thought his mate had never looked better. Licking his lips, he thought he could still taste Seamus on them, and the thought was turning him on all over again, so he looked away and made his way to the closet to find an unwrinkled shirt to put on.

Seamus stood up, watching Dean's back as he pulled the dark t-shirt over his head. He could see the ribs rising and falling and he wondered if Dean was still as... _aroused_ as he was. He scrubbed his hand through his hair again and pressed his hand down between his legs - rearranging himself to be less obvious.

Pulling the clean shirt over his head, Dean turned back around to face Seamus, "Ready to go downstairs?" he asked in a meek voice.

 _No_. "Yeah," Seamus replied just as quietly and followed the other boy downstairs.

~*~*~

Dean pushed the door to his room open in stony silence. Dinner had been a long and tiresome ordeal, and it had given him plenty of time to doubt and second guess whatever was going on between he and Seamus. Right now he needed to get changed, get into bed, and sort out all these thoughts he was having. Hopefully he had not just ruined the greatest friendship he'd ever had.

 _I can't believe I ruined this_ , Seamus thought miserably, following Dean into his room quietly. He always took things too far, whether it was a story or a joke or... snogging his best friend without thinking. He found his bag and pulled out a pair of pyjama pants with a heavy sigh.

They both dressed without a word, and Dean turned off the light before sliding under his covers. He realized, though, that thinking wasn't going to be easy, as he was lying in his bed, the bed where they'd... It was hard to think of anything else.

 _Screw it..._ he finally thought. If Seamus didn't want to do... what they had been doing anymore, then he'd just have to tell him. Because Dean _wanted_ to do it... wanted it more than he could ever remember wanting anything in his whole life. He rolled over to the side where Seamus was sleeping on the floor and peeked over the edge, "Seamus?" he said softly.

Seamus heard Dean's quiet voice and turned his head slightly toward the bed, "Yeah, mate?" Hopefully his voice sounded normal enough, and not as though he'd been lying on his back _wanting_ Dean.

"You... uh...you never did finish your story from earlier," Dean said, trying to sound calm, "Do you want to, uh, come up here and tell me the rest?"

Seamus forced a quiet laugh, " _Which_ story?"

"You know, the one where the guy was fishing and his line gets stuck on a box and he thinks it's gold... I never got to hear how it ended," he said hopefully, hoping Seamus would just come up there, and laugh, and be his best mate again... or maybe a little more.

"Oh, yeah. Where did I leave off?" Seamus asked, sitting up and resting his elbow on the edge of Dean's bed. "Or, more correctly, where was I when _you cut me off_ so rudely?"

Dean smiled in the dark. Seamus didn't seem to be mad at all. "You were just at the part where he was going to open the box and find out what was in it," he said happily, grabbing Seamus' hands and hauling him up on the bed.

Seamus let Dean pull him up onto his bed again. _Maybe he's only a little upset with me_ , he thought. Not wanting to push his luck, Seamus stayed near the edge of the bed and continued the story, "Well, Patrick reached down to untangle his line and found..."

Seamus paused dramatically.

"Seven old shoes tied together." He waited, in a hush, for Dean's awed reaction.

Dean arched an eyebrow, unsure of how this story meant anything at all. "Seven shoes? What does that have to do with anything?" he asked quietly.

Right now he didn't much care about Seamus' story, though. He had Seamus back on his bed, and he was looking at Dean so... so beautifully... and he wasn't going to let this opportunity go to waste. Sitting up on his knees, Dean set his hands on the other boy's shoulders and leaned forward quickly, before he could lose his nerve, and pressed his lips lightly to Seamus'.

"You've never heard of the Seven Shoes of morflerengoh-" Seamus trailed off when Dean kissed him.

 _Kissed him_. Dean wasn't mad. He was...

...he was kissing him and Seamus was too busy thinking to enjoy it. _Stop thinking, you sod!_ Seamus commanded himself. He pushed back against Dean's cool lips, scooting away from the edge of the bed.

"I was sort of hoping we could pick up where we left off earlier..." Dean mumbled against Seamus' lips, his hands trailing lightly over the other boy's chest.

Dean's fingers left tingling trails across his skin and Seamus fought against shivers, "Mmm..." he murmured, "You'll have to remind me where we left off."

Laughing, Dean wrapped his arms around Seamus' middle and laid back, hauling the other boy on top of him. "Okay, I think it was about here," he said and kissed him softly again.

"No... actually, hold on," Dean said as he remembered something. Spreading his thighs, he wrapped his legs around Seamus' waist, "Okay, perfect."

And it _was_.

Seamus thought that lying on top of Dean's warm body felt better than jumping into a cool river on a hot day... better than stroking himself lazily in bed in a warm Sunday sunbeam. "Mmm... _perfect_ ," Seamus agreed, leaning down to kiss Dean again; warm, wet and sweet.

Smoothing his hands down Seamus' naked back, Dean moaned softly into the other boy's mouth. He loved the feel of Seamus' skin under his hand. It was soft and warm, and there seemed to be miles and miles of it for him to explore. His foot slid along the back of Seamus' leg, bunching up the material of his trousers, and Dean thought suddenly that clothes were extremely overrated.

 _Dean has such warm feet_ , Seamus thought as he smiled into Dean's lips. "How do you do that," he murmured, bracing his torso with one hand and pushing up slightly. "How do you stay so _warm_ when I get cold so quickly?"

"Why are we talking about this _now_?" Dean asked with a mock-exhasperated sigh, his hands running down Seamus' arms, "Just don't worry, I'll keep you warm," he said softly, taking Seamus' lower lip between his teeth.

His lower lip was caught - perfectly caught - and he couldn't talk, so Seamus nestled down into Dean's dark chocolate skin and traced S's on Dean's shoulder. When Dean released his lip, Seamus dragged his mouth lightly across his best friend's face, mumbling quiet words against Dean's temple and pressing light kisses across his thin eyelids.

Dean hummed his delight at the attention, his hands roaming aimlessly along Seamus' back and shoulders. Finally catching the boy's lips with his own, he sighed his contentment, exploring his mate's mouth with his tongue.

Seamus wondered why it was that all the other people that had ever had their tongues in his mouth had seemed so sloppy, when Dean's tongue felt so _graceful_... pushing into corners of his mouth and making his own tongue tingle. Seamus sighed and rubbed the underside of Dean's tongue with his own.

This was _amazing_.

Like coming home.

Dean moaned softly, coaxing Seamus' tongue into his own mouth and sucking on it gently. He pulled Seamus closer to him and rubbed his hand along the other boy's spine. This was so good, better than anything he had ever done with anyone else. Why in Merlin's name had they not thought of this sooner?

When Dean sucked his tongue, Seamus felt a deep flip in the hollow of his belly and moaned into Dean's mouth. He slid one of his hands to cradle Dean's head, pulling him closer, wanting his tongue _deeper_ , wanting more, more of _everything_. Dewdrops of sweat pooled in his lower back; he could feel a breeze gently blowing over his back and Seamus wondered if only Dean Thomas could make him sweat on a cool summer evening.

Arching up into Seamus' body, Dean raked his nails lightly across his back. It felt like he was burning up from the inside out, and he wasn't sure what to do. Kissing was wonderful, but Dean wanted _more_... more of Seamus' body pressing into him, more of Seamus' hands on his body, more of _everything_.

The feel of Dean's fingernails digging into his back was so exciting. It felt wrong and right and _perfect_. Another whisper of air blew through the window as Seamus rolled his hips - pushing them together, _hard_.

Dean's gasp from the sensation of _Seamus_ pressed so fully against him caught in his throat because it had just dawned on him, "My mother's in the next room," his voice was tight as he rocked his hips lightly back up into Seamus'.

 _Bugger_ , Seamus thought. He brought his lips to Dean's ear and whispered softly, "Do we have to stop, then?" Seamus moved his hips again and moaned quietly just under Dean's earlobe. "Because... I don't think I want to stop this, Dean," Seamus closed his eyes, suddenly wondering if he was still just talking about snogging his best friend.

"If you stop I _will_ kill you," Dean moaned softly into Seamus' ear, rocking his hips back in time. "It's just... _oh God_... it means that we have to be... _yes_...quiet." He fisted one of his hands back into Seamus' hair and brought his neck down to nibble on.

"Dean," Seamus whispered again, "It's just... I don't know how to be... _oh_... how to be quiet." He slid his mouth along Dean's jaw and licked the corner of mahogany lips, "Plus, I _want_ to make you moan."

Seamus slid his fingers to the top of Dean's pyjama top and toyed with the first button.

"Please," Dean begged, noticing Seamus playing with the buttons of his shirt. Moving his hands down, he tried to help Seamus with them, but his whole body was shaking so much that he was no help at all. So, instead he just brushed their lips together again, "I'm not being very smooth, am I?" he asked in a strained voice, laughing slightly.

"Smooth? Nah, but no worries," Seamus said, sliding his fingers to unfasten the rest of the buttons on Dean's shirt and push the two halves apart.

When Dean ran his hand slowly along his waistband, Seamus moaned, "If you're going to keep touching me like this," Seamus whispered into Dean's mouth, eyes heavy-lidded as he watched, "you're going to have to figure out a way to keep _me_ quiet."

"I think I have a few ideas," Dean groaned and smashed his lips into Seamus'. They were still thrusting together slightly; their revived erections rubbed against each other and it was _so good_ that Dean could hardly stand it. Lifting up slightly, he shrugged his shirt off the rest of the way and tossed it onto the floor. He pulled Seamus back to him, wanting to touch Seamus in every place he could reach, and wanting Seamus to touch him in return. He also wanted to do other things with Seamus... things that he hadn't quite figured out yet, but he was starting to get a few ideas.

Seamus closed his eyes when Dean's mouth covered his. He didn't want to - _couldn't_ \- stop touching Dean and slid his hand back to the waistband of Dean's pyjama bottoms. Seamus desperately wanted to find out if Dean's skin felt as good as everything they were doing.

It did. Like rough velvet. Scratchy-smooth and warm.

He tried not to imagine what it would feel like to touch Dean _other_ places... that might be too much for him to handle. _But_ , he thought, _that might be worth trying when Dean's mother wasn't around._

Dean arched into Seamus' touch, willing his hand to go lower. Groaning, he kissed a trail down Seamus' jaw, to his neck, to his collar bone, and over to his shoulder. He kissed and laved his tongue over the angry looking spot where he had bit him earlier. There would be a bruise there later, Dean was sure of it, and that thought made him oddly happy. Maybe he should give him one on the other shoulder...just to even it out.

Seamus traced under the stretchy elastic of Dean's pyjama bottoms and willed Dean's mouth to keep going, _keep going_... It was starting to feel really hot in the room, in spite of the open window and Seamus wondered if it had to do with the rising flush in his skin, or the sweaty _need_ that was filling him.

Giving in to himself, Dean kissed and nipped his way to Seamus' other shoulder before sinking his teeth in again, then kissing it wetly in apology. He was fascinated by the mark he had made, and explored every inch and ridge of it with his tongue.

Seamus turned his head to the side and muffled a moan into his other arm, "Dean, _Dean_ ," he panted, squeezing his fingers into Dean's hip before resting his elbow on the bed. He lowered to his other elbow so their noses were touching and their lips were centimetres apart.

" _Seamus_ ," Dean gasped, rubbing his lips lightly against Seamus. His eyes were shut tight, and his lower body was almost permanently arched off the bed, trying to get as much friction from the body above him as possible. Dark hands roamed their way down Seamus' back before finding his arse and squeezing roughly, bringing them closer together. "Please... _please_."

Seamus rocked back against Dean's hands and rocked forward slowly. If he thought about it, he'd probably worry that he was going to hurt Dean, or that they'd not be able to look at each other in the morning, but Seamus was resolutely not thinking as he braced his elbows and knees and pushed again... This was so good... too good... he wasn't going to last if they kept this up.

"Seamus...God, I..." Dean moaned into Seamus' lips as he pressed them as close together as he could. This was...this was... He thrust one last time and moved to bury his face in Seamus' neck to cover up the moan he knew the whole neighborhood probably would have been able to hear as he came.

Seamus felt Dean's mouth at his neck, moaning into it as his body shuddered. He thrust against Dean twice more, the trembling of Dean's mouth pushing him into a breathy peak of his own.

"Dean - _god_ \- I... _oh_!"

Seamus shut his mouth and shuddered long and hard with his climax, breathing heavily and only opening his mouth when he knew he could do so without making noise.

He opened his eyes briefly and realized just how close to Dean he was... that he was pressed against the other boy - on his _bed_ , and they'd just basically pulled each other off. Or very nearly so. He looked down at Dean and bit his lip.

Dean ran his hand lightly over the small of Seamus' back as he slowly opened his eyes. Seamus was looking at him a bit nervously, maybe even a bit sadly. His heart nearly stopped at that look... did Seamus regret what they'd done? Had he just ruined six years of friendship by wanting too much? Dean hated that look, wanted to kiss it off Seamus face, and make him see that everything was okay. That this was even _better_ than what they had been before.

So he did.

He leaned up and kissed Seamus slowly, running his tongue over that bitten lip. Finally he pulled back, giving the other boy a reassuring look, but he didn't dare say anything. Not yet.

Seamus relaxed - slightly - into the kiss and looked back down at Dean with creased eyebrows. "Uh, hi, Dean," he whispered.

"Hullo," Dean whispered back, his hand still running over Seamus' back. He looked up at the other boy, still unsure if he realized what Dean was trying to say without words. They really needed to talk about this. A long drawn out talk... but that could wait till tomorrow, couldn't it? He had just had the best orgasm of his life, and he wanted to enjoy all the wonderful after-feelings... preferably with Seamus. "Do you, uh, do you want to... maybe... stay up here with me?" he asked in a low voice, trying not to show Seamus how very nervous he was.

Dean's voice trembled a bit and Seamus wondered if it was because he felt nervous and suddenly shy like Seamus did or because he didn't want to offend him by telling him to get the bloody hell _out of his room!_

"I, uh... I can go sleep somewhere else, if you'd be more comfortable," Seamus said quietly.

"No!" Dean said a bit too loudly and spared a frightened glance at the wall that connected to his mother's room, his arm tightening around Seamus waist, "No... I, well, I _want_ you to stay. Unless... unless you don't want to. I'll understand, if you don't," he finished in a sad voice. When they had started... this... it had never occurred to him that maybe Seamus didn't really want it, and now that fear was overwhelming him. He quickly blinked back the tears that sprung from the panic that maybe Seamus was about to leap up, disgusted, and never want to come near him again. That would be _awful_.

"You do?" Seamus hated how weak his voice sounded. He didn't know what this - what _any of it_ \- meant and it just felt too... _raw_ to talk about now. So much of him wanted to tangle his body with Dean's and fall into sweaty dreams of what they'd just done... but what if Dean hated him when they woke up? What if he'd ruined things? Did he have a chance to salvage everything now by sleeping on the floor?

Did he even _want_ to?

Dean looked at him for a moment, licking his parched lips, "I... I do," he said finally, all his hope packed up into those two little words. _Please don't push me away...Please._

"Then... I'll stay," Seamus swallowed the lump in his throat and slowly pulled himself away to lay down carefully next to Dean.

"Good," Dean said weakly, turning to face Seamus but not touching him. He was so afraid that he was pushing himself on Seamus, and that if he tried to get any closer that the other boy would finally decide to push him away. Closing his eyes as if to sleep, he finally made a compromise with himself and flung his arm out to rest on Seamus' waist, hoping that it wouldn't be rejected, and tried to get some sleep. Talking could wait till the morning.

Dean had always been so quietly welcoming, Seamus thought as Dean's arm came to rest on his stomach and he realized that he wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around Dean and whisper stories and thoughts into his ear.

But Seamus also realized that he _always_ did shit like this. He always jumped into things with two feet - with _out_ thinking, and he was damned if he was going to ruin something as important as his friendship with Dean for a quick wank.

Dean's soft breath ghosted over his shoulder and Seamus could tell that Dean was lying there - just as he was - awake. Maybe, just once, Seamus could do something to break the tension that was coiling between them. "Tell you a story?" Seamus whispered lightly into the air, squeezing his eyes shut and crossing his fingers.


End file.
